


rid

by icygrace



Category: Reign (TV)
Genre: Alternate Versions of the Same Story, F/M, Spoilers (sort of but not really)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 07:23:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2539244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icygrace/pseuds/icygrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Don’t worry, Sebastian. You’ll be rid of her soon enough.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Version 1

**Author's Note:**

> Reign does not belong to me and certain conversations or pieces thereof which happened on the show definitely do not belong to me.
> 
> There are two versions of this story: the happier one and the angstier version. The angstier version is the original, but I thought that it was possible that someone reading might prefer something happier, so I’ve posted the happier version as the first part. Spoilers for upcoming episodes, insofar as the presence of Princess Claude and her relationship with her mother. I also Reign-ified some of Diane’s real pre-Henry history.

His favorite sister’s first day back at court is a whirlwind. Unlike Elisabeth, Claude never looked down her nose at him. She’s loveably irrepressible, though it seems to create a rather different effect now that she’s a woman grown, which is somewhat worrying. But it’s a worry for another day.

 

Right now, he’s eager to introduce two of his favorite women to each other. “Claude, my wife, Lady Kenna.” He smiles proudly. “Kenna, Her Highness Princess Claude.”

 

Kenna sweeps a perfect curtsey. “It’s a pleasure, Your Highness.”

 

Claude nods in return. “I’ve heard a great deal about you, Lady Kenna, and I’ve looked forward to meeting you.”

 

“Bash was most eager for us to meet and I hope we’ll become very good friends, but if you’ll forgive me, I must excuse myself. I’m feeling a bit peaky.”

 

“I’ll –”

 

“Stay. I wouldn’t want to drag you away from your sister,” she insists. Before he can say another word, he’s watching Kenna disappear – shining hair swinging between her shoulders, perfect figure encased in a form-fitting gown – rather speedily for someone who’s claimed exhaustion.

 

“Don’t worry, Sebastian. You’ll be rid of her soon enough.”

 

“I – what?” He can’t have heard that properly.

 

“You’ll be rid of her soon enough.”

 

Catherine’s made several waspish remarks in his hearing about reports of Claude’s excessive drinking during her time away. Perhaps she’s already drunk.

 

But there are already enough threats, seen and unseen, that Claude’s words chill him. What does she mean? Is she threatening Kenna? Why would she threaten Kenna? She’s only just _met_ her. What could she do? Does she have Catherine’s aptitude for poisons?

 

Claude’s wave goodbye is the merest wiggle of her dainty fingers.

 

\---

 

He can’t sleep that night, anxiously watching the rise and fall of his wife’s chest as she sleeps, knowing nothing of his fears.

 

\---

 

He sends a servant to fetch his sister in the early morning, inviting her for a private breakfast in his (very) humble quarters.

 

“You don’t look well, brother,” Claude declares when she walks in. “Like you hadn’t a wink of sleep. And not in the ‘I was up all night fu –’”

 

“Claude!” Claude is so blunt and unrestrained she makes him look like a priest by comparison.

 

“What?” she says over-innocently.

 

“Why did you threaten my wife?”

 

“I did no such thing.”

 

“You said I’d soon be rid of her! How else could I possibly interpret that?”

 

“She seems a bit of a twit, but I don’t know her enough to wish her dead. I meant rid of her as your wife.”

 

“Marriage is _till death_ , Claude. Or have you failed to pay attention to every wedding you’ve ever attended?”

 

“Yours could scarce be called a wedding from what I’ve heard! How you were married in the dead of night, with Father calling the witnesses to your union out of bed under pain of death, tossing you a made-up title to appease your bride, and threatening you both at sword point. How your bride sobbed the whole of your vows and was barely comprehensible when she recited her own.”

 

“Who did you hear this from? All present were sworn to secrecy.”

 

“Because Father showed just what a mad man he’d become?”

 

“Yes, but that’s not the point. _Who did you hear this from_?”

 

“Your mother, who heard it from the priest.”

 

“The –”

 

“She bribed him.”

 

“She oughtn’t spend her money on such pointless things when she could have just –”

 

“I know Mother seized Chenonceau –”

 

Catherine had also barred his mother from attending the king’s funeral and banished her from court entirely.

 

“But it isn’t as bad as all that. You forget Diane was married before she took up with Father, and her late husband was quite wealthy. She has no other children; she ought to be sharing that wealth with you, whether or not she approves of your marriage. I told her so. She was not pleased,” Claude tells him pertly. “Anyway, have you consummated your marriage?”

 

“Claude!”

 

“ _Sebastian_.”

 

“It’s been months, what do you think?”

 

“I assume the answer is yes. I doubt you’d sleep with someone else, you’re ridiculously honorable for a bastard, but you’re young and hot-blooded. And I’ll admit Lady Kenna is quite pretty. And likely hot-blooded herself. But don’t try and get out of answering.”

 

“Yes! Yes. And it was very enjoyable when we got around to it.” He can’t help the growing smirk on his face, until he remembers who he’s talking to and why he’s telling her what’s gone on in the privacy of his bedchamber. “So there’s no point in even talking –”

 

“Oh, there is. Your mother’s looking to her friends in Rome to get it done. They suggested two possibilities. I doubt duress would succeed now, since you’ve bedded her, but there’s still consanguinity.”

 

“We’re not related –”

 

“She was Father’s mistress, she knew our father carnally. The Church would consider your marriage incestuous.”

 

“I’d never thought –”

 

“You had a way out?”

 

\---

 

_Please, this is marriage, it can’t be undone!_

 

_I, Sebastian, take this woman to be my lawful wife under the eyes of God, from this day forward . . ._

 

_This is our life now, Kenna. It’s not what we chose, but we’re married before king and God, till death._

_We’re married. We can’t be un-married._

_This marriage is based on nothing._

_What a pair my father tied together for a lifetime._

 

\---

 

A thump startles him out of his thoughts.

 

It must be Claude. She’s always had a habit of knocking on things to get people’s attention when she feels it’s wandered from what’s important – from her.

 

He shakes his head. “How do you know all this? Why would my mother tell you these things?”

 

“She knows _my_ mother and that it’s not unlikely she’s having your correspondence opened.”

 

He flushes to think of some servant or courtier or Catherine herself reading a rather . . . _amorous_ letter he’d recently written to his wife. _I wish you were with me. Every night I dream of your –_ He shakes his head again. Now is not the time to let his filthy mind get the best of him.

 

“Or would at least have anything sent to or sent by Diane opened. But I was in Paris on my way back and Diane sought me out. She knows how fond I am of you. And that helping her get around Mother at all, but particularly in such a matter, would stick in Mother’s craw and therefore please me. Everyone wins.”

 

“Why would Catherine care if my mother’s seeking to have my marriage annulled?”

 

“The reason Father married you off was to eliminate the threat to Francis and Mary’s marriage, wasn’t it? Mother takes all threats to dear Francis very seriously.”

 

“He’s her son, Claude. And our _king_. She can rest easy. I don’t want his crown –”

 

His mother wanted it for him, wanted him to be king after Henry, but he’d really only wanted it because it would give him Mary.

 

But he no longer wants Mary. He has Kenna, and Kenna is everything he wants.

 

“I know you don’t,” Claude interrupts. “You’re frightfully loyal to Francis. What other man would toil away as the king’s deputy without reward? To think he found lands and a title for his bastard son, a baby who doesn’t know his foot from his fist, and none for the brother who serves him so well and faithfully. It’s shameful, really. I’ll have to tell him –”

 

“Claude –”

 

“You’re not ambitious enough, Sebastian.”

 

“That’s one thing you and my wife agree on.”

 

“Ah, your wife.”

 

“Yes, my wife.”

 

“She won’t be for long if Diane –”

 

“I don’t _want_ my marriage annulled.”

 

“Is she really _that_ good in bed?”

 

“Claude!”

 

“You just said it was quite enjoyable.”

 

“Nevertheless –”

 

“My bluntness offends your delicate sensibilities.”

 

He rolls his eyes.

 

“Why, then?”

 

“Why do I insist you not be so crass?”

 

“Why don’t you wish to set Lady Kenna aside when you have ample grounds to do so? Henry Tudor set aside his _queen_ on such grounds.”

 

His throat works and he suddenly can’t speak.

 

His brash sister must see something in his face, for her voice is far gentler when she speaks again. “Bash?”

 

“I love her.”

 

“Oh,” Claude says simply. “And she, does she –”

 

“Yes. What a miracle,” he says, half-awed, half-self-deprecating. “Once we both despaired at the thought of being tied together for a lifetime, but now –”

 

“You’re in love.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I’ll deal with Diane,” Claude promises abruptly, flouncing off.

 

Bash almost worries for his mother, but he’s got too much work to do.

 

\---

 

Now that he’s sorted things with Claude, life seems quite grand. After all, he’s young, he’s gaining respect at court, he has a beautiful wife he loves who loves him in return, and his favorite sister has returned.

 

He’s in an exceptionally good mood when he wakes up the next morning and wants to share it, so he wakes his wife with kisses.

 

Even half-asleep, she’s beautifully responsive. But there’s something startled in her eyes when she awakens properly. “One last time, husband?”

 

Something _stricken_.

 

He sits up. “Kenna?”

 

“I heard you with Princess Claude yesterday.”

 

Which part of that conversation, exactly? And why didn’t she say anything yesterday? It’s true that he’s very busy with his deputy’s duties, but it seems that whatever Kenna heard is weighing terribly on her. It’s the sort of thing that would absolutely merit an interruption to his work. “Kenna –”

 

She scrambles up from the bed to stand by the table, her back to him and her arms tight around herself. “Talking about Diane’s plans to annul our marriage.” Her voice is high and shaking with tears.

 

He stands as well, wanting to go to her, to comfort her, but he thinks he needs to tell her that she misunderstands the situation before she’ll accept his comfort. “Did you not hear me tell Claude that I didn’t _want_ our marriage annulled? That I love you?”

 

She turns, eyes wide, disbelief warring with hope. “Really?”

 

“Truly.” In an instant, he’s at her side, gathering her in his arms.

 

She cries into his chest, so quietly he wouldn’t know it if he couldn’t feel it. “I thought – I thought –”

 

“Wrong. You thought wrong,” he whispers fiercely into her hair. “I couldn’t give you up. Ever.”


	2. Version 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t worry, Sebastian. You’ll be rid of her soon enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reign does not belong to me and certain conversations or pieces thereof which happened on the show definitely do not belong to me.
> 
> As mentioned in the first part, there are two versions of this story: the happier one and the angstier version, which is this one. This is the original, but I thought that it was possible that someone reading might prefer something happier, so I posted the happier version as the first part so they could get it un-angstified. The differences come in in the scenes after the last scene featuring Claude.

His favorite sister’s first day back at court is a whirlwind. Unlike Elisabeth, Claude never looked down her nose at him. She’s loveably irrepressible, though it seems to create a rather different effect now that she’s a woman grown, which is somewhat worrying. But it’s a worry for another day.

 

Right now, he’s eager to introduce two of his favorite women to each other. “Claude, my wife, Lady Kenna.” He smiles proudly. “Kenna, Her Highness Princess Claude.”

 

Kenna sweeps a perfect curtsey. “It’s a pleasure, Your Highness.”

 

Claude nods in return. “I’ve heard a great deal about you, Lady Kenna, and I’ve looked forward to meeting you.”

 

“Bash was most eager for us to meet and I hope we’ll become very good friends, but if you’ll forgive me, I must excuse myself. I’m feeling a bit peaky.”

 

“I’ll –”

 

“Stay. I wouldn’t want to drag you away from your sister,” she insists. Before he can say another word, he’s watching Kenna disappear – shining hair swinging between her shoulders, perfect figure encased in a form-fitting gown – rather speedily for someone who’s claimed exhaustion.

 

“Don’t worry, Sebastian. You’ll be rid of her soon enough.”

 

“I – what?” He can’t have heard that properly.

 

“You’ll be rid of her soon enough.”

 

Catherine’s made several waspish remarks in his hearing about reports of Claude’s excessive drinking during her time away. Perhaps she’s already drunk.

 

But there are already enough threats, seen and unseen, that Claude’s words chill him. What does she mean? Is she threatening Kenna? Why would she threaten Kenna? She’s only just _met_ her. What could she do? Does she have Catherine’s aptitude for poisons?

 

Claude’s wave goodbye is the merest wiggle of her dainty fingers.

 

\---

 

He can’t sleep that night, anxiously watching the rise and fall of his wife’s chest as she sleeps, knowing nothing of his fears.

 

\---

 

He sends a servant to fetch his sister in the early morning, inviting her for a private breakfast in his (very) humble quarters.

 

“You don’t look well, brother,” Claude declares when she walks in. “Like you hadn’t a wink of sleep. And not in the ‘I was up all night fu –’”

 

“Claude!” Claude is so blunt and unrestrained she makes him look like a priest by comparison.

 

“What?” she says over-innocently.

 

“Why did you threaten my wife?”

 

“I did no such thing.”

 

“You said I’d soon be rid of her! How else could I possibly interpret that?”

 

“She seems a bit of a twit, but I don’t know her enough to wish her dead. I meant rid of her as your wife.”

 

“Marriage is _till death_ , Claude. Or have you failed to pay attention to every wedding you’ve ever attended?”

 

“Yours could scarce be called a wedding from what I’ve heard! How you were married in the dead of night, with Father calling the witnesses to your union out of bed under pain of death, tossing you a made-up title to appease your bride, and threatening you both at sword point. How your bride sobbed the whole of your vows and was barely comprehensible when she recited her own.”

 

“Who did you hear this from? All present were sworn to secrecy.”

 

“Because Father showed just what a mad man he’d become?”

 

“Yes, but that’s not the point. _Who did you hear this from_?”

 

“Your mother, who heard it from the priest.”

 

“The –”

 

“She bribed him.”

 

“She oughtn’t spend her money on such pointless things when she could have just –”

 

“I know Mother seized Chenonceau –”

 

Catherine had also barred his mother from attending the king’s funeral and banished her from court entirely.

 

“But it isn’t as bad as all that. You forget Diane was married before she took up with Father, and her late husband was quite wealthy. She has no other children; she ought to be sharing that wealth with you, whether or not she approves of your marriage. I told her so. She was not pleased,” Claude tells him pertly. “Anyway, have you consummated your marriage?”

 

“Claude!”

 

“ _Sebastian_.”

 

“It’s been months, what do you think?”

 

“I assume the answer is yes. I doubt you’d sleep with someone else, you’re ridiculously honorable for a bastard, but you’re young and hot-blooded. And I’ll admit Lady Kenna is quite pretty. And likely hot-blooded herself. But don’t try and get out of answering.”

 

“Yes! Yes. And it was very enjoyable when we got around to it.” He can’t help the growing smirk on his face, until he remembers who he’s talking to and why he’s telling her what’s gone on in the privacy of his bedchamber. “So there’s no point in even talking –”

 

“Oh, there is. Your mother’s looking to her friends in Rome to get it done. They suggested two possibilities. I doubt duress would succeed now, since you’ve bedded her, but there’s still consanguinity.”

 

“We’re not related –”

 

“She was Father’s mistress, she knew our father carnally. The Church would consider your marriage incestuous.”

 

“I’d never thought –”

 

“You had a way out?”

 

\---

 

_Please, this is marriage, it can’t be undone!_

 

_I, Sebastian, take this woman to be my lawful wife under the eyes of God, from this day forward . . ._

 

_This is our life now, Kenna. It’s not what we chose, but we’re married before king and God, till death._

_We’re married. We can’t be un-married._

_This marriage is based on nothing._

_What a pair my father tied together for a lifetime._

 

\---

 

A thump startles him out of his thoughts.

 

It must be Claude. She’s always had a habit of knocking on things to get people’s attention when she feels it’s wandered from what’s important – from her.

 

He shakes his head. “How do you know all this? Why would my mother tell you these things?”

 

“She knows _my_ mother and that it’s not unlikely she’s having your correspondence opened.”

 

He flushes to think of some servant or courtier or Catherine herself reading a rather . . . _amorous_ letter he’d recently written to his wife. _I wish you were with me. Every night I dream of your –_ He shakes his head again. Now is not the time to let his filthy mind get the best of him.

 

“Or would at least have anything sent to or sent by Diane opened. But I was in Paris on my way back and Diane sought me out. She knows how fond I am of you. And that helping her get around Mother at all, but particularly in such a matter, would stick in Mother’s craw and therefore please me. Everyone wins.”

 

“Why would Catherine care if my mother’s seeking to have my marriage annulled?”

 

“The reason Father married you off was to eliminate the threat to Francis and Mary’s marriage, wasn’t it? Mother takes all threats to dear Francis very seriously.”

 

“He’s her son, Claude. And our _king_. She can rest easy. I don’t want his crown –”

 

His mother wanted it for him, wanted him to be king after Henry, but he’d really only wanted it because it would give him Mary.

 

But he no longer wants Mary. He has Kenna, and Kenna is everything he wants.

 

“I know you don’t,” Claude interrupts. “You’re frightfully loyal to Francis. What other man would toil away as the king’s deputy without reward? To think he found lands and a title for his bastard son, a baby who doesn’t know his foot from his fist, and none for the brother who serves him so well and faithfully. It’s shameful, really. I’ll have to tell him –”

 

“Claude –”

 

“You’re not ambitious enough, Sebastian.”

 

“That’s one thing you and my wife agree on.”

 

“Ah, your wife.”

 

“Yes, my wife.”

 

“She won’t be for long if Diane –”

 

“I don’t _want_ my marriage annulled.”

 

“Is she really _that_ good in bed?”

 

“Claude!”

 

“You just said it was quite enjoyable.”

 

“Nevertheless –”

 

“My bluntness offends your delicate sensibilities.”

 

He rolls his eyes.

 

“Why, then?”

 

“Why do I insist you not be so crass?”

 

“Why don’t you wish to set Lady Kenna aside when you have ample grounds to do so? Henry Tudor set aside his _queen_ on such grounds.”

 

His throat works and he suddenly can’t speak.

 

His brash sister must see something in his face, for her voice is far gentler when she speaks again. “Bash?”

 

“I love her.”

 

“Oh,” Claude says simply. “And she, does she –”

 

“Yes. What a miracle,” he says, half-awed, half-self-deprecating. “Once we both despaired at the thought of being tied together for a lifetime, but now –”

 

“You’re in love.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I’ll deal with Diane,” Claude promises abruptly, flouncing off.

 

Bash almost worries for his mother, but he’s got too much work to do.

 

\---

 

When he returns to his apartments from deputy’s business that night, Kenna is already asleep.

 

There’s a pitcher of warm ale on the table, to which he helps himself before he can help catching a whiff of another cup, left full to the brim. It’s full of something that looks like it ought to be tea, but smells like death. No wonder it’s untouched.

 

The smell disgusts him enough he can’t stomach his own ale.

 

\---

 

Now that he’s sorted things with Claude, life seems quite grand. After all, he’s young, he’s gaining respect at court, he has a beautiful wife he loves who loves him in return, and his favorite sister has returned.

 

He’s in an exceptionally good mood and wants to share it, so he wakes his wife with kisses.

 

Even half-asleep, she’s beautifully responsive. But there’s something startled in her eyes when she awakens properly. “One last time, husband?”

 

Something _stricken_.

 

He sits up. “Kenna?”

 

“I heard you with Princess Claude yesterday.”

 

Which part of that conversation, exactly? And why didn’t she say anything yesterday? It’s true that he’s very busy with his deputy’s duties, but it seems that whatever Kenna heard is weighing terribly on her. It’s the sort of thing that would absolutely merit an interruption to his work. “Kenna –”

 

She scrambles up from the bed to stand by the table, her back to him and her arms tight around herself. “Talking about Diane’s plans to annul our marriage.” Her voice is high and shaking with tears.

 

He stands as well, wanting to go to her, to comfort her, but he thinks he needs to tell her that she misunderstands the situation before she’ll accept his comfort. “Did you not hear me tell Claude that I didn’t _want_ our marriage annulled? That I love you?”

 

She turns, eyes wide, disbelief warring with hope. “Really?”

 

“Truly.” In an instant, he’s at her side, gathering her in his arms.

 

She cries into his chest, so quietly he wouldn’t know it if he couldn’t feel it. “I thought – I thought –”

 

“Wrong. You thought wrong,” he whispers fiercely into her hair. “I couldn’t give you up. Ever.”

 

\---

 

Once Kenna’s calmed down, he offers her something to drink.

 

“Oh God.” She claps a hand over her mouth and somehow he has the presence of mind to grab the nearest basin for her to vomit into.

 

“There’s a girl, it’s all right. You’ll feel better when you’re done.”

 

After he gets her something to rinse the awful taste of bile out of her mouth, he returns to find her staring at the table.

 

She accepts the glass and rinses mechanically, without moving.

 

“Get away from there, Kenna. I wouldn’t be surprised if the smell of that’s what made you sick, it’s disgusting. I’ll have it tossed out at once.”

 

“Do, but it’s not the smell of it that made me sick. It was the thought that I almost drank it.”

 

“I imagine it would taste foul if it smells so –”

 

“Not because of the taste, but because of what it _does_. What it’s for,” she explains shakily.

 

“Kenna?”

 

“I – I – When I thought you were going to set me – set our marriage aside – I –”

 

His stomach swoops sickeningly. Had she – was that – poison – _suicide_ , a dark little voice whispers. With a terrifying certainty, he knows he would not survive her committing such an act against herself. “You?”

 

“You’ll hate me.”

 

“I could never.”

 

“I’m pregnant.”

 

It feels like the world has slowed around him as he comprehends his wife’s words. “Kenna, that’s _wonderful_.” He moves to embrace her, because God, the woman he _loves_ is going to have his _child_ , what better –

 

She steps out of his reach. “And I – I tried to get rid of it. With that.”

 

His joy curdles like the sourest of milks. Now he cannot even bring himself to touch her.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I felt awful, it’s _our child_ , and trying to cast it out when Mary’s just lost a baby, but I – I couldn’t – I couldn’t bear – when marriages are annulled, the children – they’re illegitimate and I –” She inhales sharply. “Francis can honor a bastard son, Henry could favor you, even if he didn’t truly do right by you, but – but the illegitimate child of a marriage declared _incestuous_ – it would have such a difficult life, I didn’t want – But I couldn’t do it. It’s ours, _yours_ , and I already loved it too much.”

 

Kenna loses whatever control remained to her and bursts into wrenching sobs that remind him of their wedding as she slides down to the floor. He joins her, biting his tongue to contain his anger so he doesn’t swear or shout or shake her, instead holding her to him in an attempt at comfort until it occurs to him that the violence of her emotions – her entire body shakes with her tears – might harm the baby, so he leaves at once to seek the recently returned Nostradamus out for assistance.

 

\---

 

“I ought to have gotten a midwife, but where does one even –”

 

“No, it’s best you didn’t,” Kenna interrupts hoarsely. “I don’t wish anyone to know –”

 

“So you can kill our child with none the wiser?” What is the matter with him? He has a right to be angry, but Kenna is obviously still upset and hurling accusations won’t help calm her down. It can only make matters worse.

 

“Sebastian,” Nostradamus scolds.

 

Kenna flinches. “Please. It’s just – I’d rather wait. To be sure and . . . what happened with Mary.”

 

Nostradamus makes a noise of agreement. “It’s not uncommon for women to lose babies early on.”

 

“And it’s so soon after,” Kenna adds. “Her loss –”

 

“It would be hard for her,” he agrees reluctantly.

 

Kenna is pale, her sorrow and guilt filling the air around her.

 

He feels the anger drain from him as he looks at her, leaving behind sorrow of his own along with fear of what nearly happened and gratitude that it didn’t actually come to pass.

 

\---

 

While Kenna slumbers under the effects of one of Nostradamus’ tonics – “perfectly safe,” the physician promised – he broods.

 

He knows that what almost happened is not truly his mother’s fault. At this point, it’s not ambition, but love for him that motivates her. Or so he thinks. She thinks him unhappy because she’s not here to see how much happier he is with Kenna.

 

He knows it isn’t Claude’s fault either. She was acting out of similar affection and backed down when she understood that things were not what she thought them to be.

 

He knows that if anyone at all was at fault, it was Kenna, but that she was so distraught he cannot possibly be angry with her for it, and that, really, it was all a terrible misunderstanding.

 

None of that changes the fact that if he never sees his only living parent again, it will be too soon, because her machinations nearly robbed him of his own child.  


End file.
